


Lost Inhibitions

by toons_rule



Series: Next Scene Please! [1]
Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Drinking, M/M, Pre-Relationship, characters have names, unable to lie, unwanted confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26562151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toons_rule/pseuds/toons_rule
Summary: He just wanted a drink. Was that really so hard to ask for? How did a drink to relax turn into him letting slip feelings for a certain penguin director?
Relationships: The Conductor/DJ Grooves (A Hat in Time)
Series: Next Scene Please! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931809
Comments: 1
Kudos: 51





	Lost Inhibitions

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt is from dead-bird-studios-cut-footage on Tumblr.
> 
> “Hello, Darling!”  
> “No.”  
> “What?”  
> “No.”  
> “No what?”  
> “No you aren’t allowed to smile like that. It makes me feel things.”

Mafia Town may be a bit of a journey, but their bartender makes the best mixed drinks. Better than anyone else on this pecking planet. So, it was honestly worth the treck, because some days straight whiskey just wouldn’t cut it. Amos cut his way through the crowd as he entered the bar proper and claimed the stool furthest from the door. He only waited for a few moments before being greeted with a cheer of joy.

“Conductor comrade! Mafia is very happy to see favorite customer. Hard day?” 

“Aye, ye can say that.” Amos huffed, tossing his hat aside. 

“Is Grooves or is Grooves?”

“Yes ta both,” they shared a laugh as the bartender gather his needed supplies, “What have ye got for me taday?”

“New shipment for new drink! Very exciting. Special little liquid that lowers all care.”

“I’ll take it.”

Amos cringed slightly at the color being created in the tall glass. The vividness of it reminding him of Grooves’ new on screen outfit. Which the Conductor didn’t want to think about. With how flattering and perfect of a fit it was on the Moon Penguin. Peck it all, Amos wasn’t that great with emotions. Especially not of the romantic interest variety. 

He was broken out of his stupor when the drink was placed before him. The Mafia bartender looking very proud at his newest creation. 

“Color ain’t that, uh...pleasin’ ta the eyes.” 

“Very true. But you won’t care soon enough. Mafia promise.” 

Amos gave a shrug, a tip to the bartender with the glass, and took his first drink. He wasn’t ashamed of the shiver that visibly traveled through him. It was sweet, almost too much, but the punch of alcohol that followed after more than made up for it. He felt his body respond in kind by leaning over the bar. 

“Oof, ya really weren’t kiddin’ about that effect.” 

“Conductor feeling better already.” The bartender smirked when the owl laughed in response. The Mafia pulled out a glass to clean, leaning over to give the Conductor his full attention. “So, still have emotional constipation issues, ya? Mafia still does not understand why not explain situation to penguin.” 

“Too many years o’ aggression,” Amos answered simply, “Can’t simply be pushed away because o’ some feelings. Askin’ a rival to forget all o’ that… ‘e probably doesn’t even like me. …Just tolerates.” 

Mafia bartender winced slightly as Amos downed the rest of the drink in one go. The Conductor placed the empty glass down and tapped the counter. A silent ask for another. “Mafia understand your worries. But, Mafia will be asking Conductor to take this slow. As a friend. Is a very hefty drink.” 

“Ya know better than anyone I can tolerate more than the average...anyone. Keep them comin’ ‘til I can’t stand.” 

“Very well. Mafia will do as requested. Doesn’t mean Mafia is not concerned for possible outcome from this.”

Amos decided it wasn’t worth his time to respond. Between the alcohol itself and the new ‘mysterious’ liquid the bartender has acquired, the Conductor was more than happy to just sit there and, quite literally, drink his cares away. 

______________________

“Peckin’...headache.” Amos grumbled as the train pulled into the station. He should have probably figured that anything that gave that much of a carefree experience would have heavy repercussions. One being a hangover. A hard one. The other holding the feeling as if he was floating on a cloud. As if he still wasn’t supposed to care but did. This was hard to put into words. It was almost like all Amos wanted to do was talk even though he wanted nothing more than crawl into bed.

Hand still pressing against his temple, Amos descended from the train and joined the large crowd heading towards the studio. He kept his attention towards the ground as he was in no condition to hold a conversation with anyone. Not that the universe would allow the owl that luxury. 

He’d just entered the front lobby when the double door on the right side of the room burst open and DJ Grooves walked in. Already in the needed on screen outfit that was driving Amos crazy. No one was allowed to look _that good_ in just a pecking awful color. Who made that color? 

The Conductor was shuffling towards his side of the studio, keeping his head down as he approached the reception desk. The penguin’s bright attitude making the owl’s own sour one so much worse. How could anyone be that happy so early in the morning? If Amos didn’t have just a pain drumming in his head, he would take the time to admire how well Grooves lit up the room. But he wasn’t in the mood to be so vulnerable before the second rate director. His second desire to slink past the other without being noticed, however, was not fulfilled either as the other director called out. 

“Hello, Darling!” Grooves leaned against the reception desk, full attention on the pained owl. That smile...it was too bright and was making the Conductor’s stomach do weird things that didn’t have to do with the hangover. 

Amos didn’t give the other a chance to continue before turning to Grooves and growling. “No.” 

“...What?”

“No.”

Grooves raised a brow, his smile slipping into something more worried. “No, what?”

“No, ya aren’t allowed ta smile like that. It’s makin’ me feel things.”

What. Did he. Just say.

If the quiet around the lobby was anything to go by, Amos did, just in fact, let slip something damaging. Grooves’ smile had completely fallen away. A look of absolute shock replacing it. Amos, on his part, felt his face heat up as all attention that was directed at him. His feathers, even being ruffled from the hard sleep he had, were puffed out in embarrassment. He also became painfully aware of how furious his heart was beating in his chest. 

Was he dying? It felt like he was dying. He needed to throw up.

“What...What was that Darling?” Grooves broke the strained silence. 

Amos responded by slamming his hand down on the counter and marching over to his doors, face burning red. It felt like something was clawing at his throat. Another thing that wanted to be said that the Conductor knew would ruin things even further. He knew if he stuck around for too much longer, the words would spill from him. Which was the last thing he wanted. 

He placed a hand over his mouth as he made his way through his side of the studio. The owls that had already made it in and missed the disaster that was Amos’ life gave a smile to their approaching director. Did they not see how angry he was? 

“What the peck do you have to be so happy about!” Amos swallowed hard as the smiles fell away to tensed expressions. He’s not mad at them. He’s actually not sure who he’s mad at. Why did he just say that? 

“Good morning sir.” One owl hesitantly offered. 

“I was ‘til I opened my mouth to flatter Grooves.” Amos clicked his beak closed, becoming more flustered as his actors stared at him. 

“Are you feeling alright?”

“I can’t keep me mouth shut for some reason and ‘m sayin’ things I don’t want to.” The Conductor quickly turned and headed straight for his office. Leaving confused owls behind him. “No one get me unless the studio is on fire!” 

He felt less better when the door to his office was closed. He may have been alone, but Amos still had no idea what was wrong with him. Now he was alone with his racing thoughts as to what the actual peck was happening. Clutching his throat, he attempted to calm his frazzled mind to try and solve his current problem. Taking stock of his situation came down to a few things being realized. One: he still felt as if he was in a drunken stupor. Two: that special liquor had some prolonged side effects. Three: Amos had lost his filter and possibly couldn’t lie. 

“Test, need a test.” His attention perked up seeing a blue pen resting on his desk. Picking it up, Amos held it out, glaring it down as if this was his last life line. “This pen is r- blue.” 

He growled darkly, leaning closer to the writing tool. “This pen. It’s re- blue. Peck it all! It’s r- blue! PECK!” 

Frustration reaching its peak, Amos threw the pen, watching it with minimal satisfaction as it hit the wall and clattered to the floor. He dropped into his chair. Holding his head in his hands, Amos swallowed hard in trying to keep him quiet. 

“All I ‘ave ta do is stay in my office until the studio closes. Then, I march to the Mafia and tell them to get rid of that blasted drink and then-” Amos’ rant was cut short at the gentle knock on his door. Fear rose that he turned into anger. “I said I didn’t want ta be bothered!” 

Another knock. 

“I said-”

Amos stood and backed as far away from the door he could get as Grooves walked in. The fear was back in full as the owl attempted to merge with his wardrobe. There was a sharp snap as the door was closed and the penguin regarded the other with worry. Which was something the owl didn’t want to deal with. He didn’t need pity, he needed peace!

“I said ta not bother me.” 

“Well, when your crew comes over to my side with worries about you, I feel as if I need to ignore your sudden request. Were you planning on staying in your office the entire day?” 

“Aye, that was the original idea.” Amos growled. 

“Now I’m even more concerned. Why are you willing to lose a day of filming? What is going on with you today?”

“What’s it to you, ya peckneck! I thought ya would have liked havin’ a day up on me when it came ta filmin’. What do ya care if I’m havin’ a bit o’ an off day? It’s not my fault da Mafia has a new drink that apparently forces the drinker to tell the truth. Or spill their secrets. And it’s even more unfair that ya walk into my office with that outfit on! One that I ‘aven’t been able to get out o’ my mind because it’s just so perfect on ya! Ya’re not helping this confused thought about ya at all!” 

Silence fell over the two once again. Amos, realizing what he’s just said, turns his back to the penguin with hands keeping his mouth clamped as he hides his face in a wool jacket. He was shaking, if the rattling of the nearby hangers were any indications. He felt so sick. His stomach was now churning with fear. This was the absolute worst, how could this be happening? Did he just confess? That wasn’t supposed to happen. 

Amos flinched feeling arms wrap around him. He was pulled from the half created cocoon of clothing and into the comforting hold of Grooves. The penguin in question leaned over to place his chin on Amos’ shoulder. 

“I believe I have a good grasp on the situation right now,” Groove spoke softly as to not startle the owl, “Between your rather flattering words and the outburst just now, we have a few things to discuss once you’re feeling better. But for now, I do think it’s in your best interest, and you planned this already, to stay here for today.” 

“I need ta work…”

Grooves laughed gently at the response. “So your plan is an issue if I suggest it? You are not working in this condition. It may not seem like much, but you’ve clearly already said things you’ve regretted saying. Let’s not put your actors through too much stress. But if you’re that worried about it, you can start working on your next blockbuster script.” 

Amos smirked at that. “So, ya sayin’ I’m the better director?”

“Someone has to like your work, I suppose.”

The Conductor laughed, allowing himself to fully relax into the embrace. He was startled, feeling something run through the feather’s on the back of his neck. “...Grooves?”

“Thank you for flattering my new look. If I’d known you were a fan of this style, I would have planned more like it.”

“Ya know I wouldn’t have told you under normal circumstances.” Amos let out a startled chirp as something nipped at his neck. He broke away to turn and give a hard glare to Grooves’ smug look. “Don’t be so proud of yourself.” 

“Too late.” Was the flippant response, Grooves already heading for the door. “I have my own movie to worry about, so I’ll be taking my leave. Do you wish to talk tonight?”

“...Yes, I would. If you’re willin’ ta listen.” 

Grooves gave a sincere smile as he opened the door. “Of course Darling. As I said, we have a few things to discuss. You’re not the only one who’s been holding back a few secrets of their own. Til this evening, dear Conductor.”

Amos gave a nod as the penguin left, the door closing gently and Grooves’ footsteps fell away. The Conductor shuffled his way back over to his chair. Dropping into it once more, he felt better than he did when he previously hid himself away in his office. But he was rather dumbstruck with how well it all actually turned out. 

“Right...better call that peckin’ Mafia first before gettin’ to work. No one else needs to go through this. Ever.”


End file.
